John's blog - www.johnvhansen.com - Dollhousehttp://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm
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no‘Dollhouse’ flashback: ‘Epitaphs’ comic series (2011-12)http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2016/9/14/Dollhouse-flashback-Epitaphs-comic-series-201112
<img src="http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/images//Dollhouse-Epitaphs.jpg">
On the Season 2 DVD, Joss Whedon says "Dollhouse" was a pebble he could've turned over for as much as seven seasons. Unfortunately, we only got 26 episodes, but <a href="http://dollhouse.wikia.com/wiki/Epitaphs" target="_blank">"Epitaphs"</a> (2011-12) – a six-issue comic book series from Dark Horse – turns over the pebble of this great concept a little bit more.
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In essays about the show (I recommend "Inside Joss' Dollhouse: From Alpha to Rossum"), the episodes "Epitaph One" and "Epitaph Two: Return" are mentioned an inordinate amount. This because they conclude the saga's storyline, jumping ahead a decade to show an apocalypse where most of humanity has been mind-wiped into Dumbshows or mind-controlled into violent Butchers by the twisted Rossum Corporation.
Although I liked those episodes a lot more on my recent rewatch, they left me cold when they first aired, and they still kind of do. This is a function of the fact that there's a decade of missing story after "The Hollow Men," the conclusive "present day" episode of the series. "Epitaphs" fills in that gap, and it's by husband-and-wife "Dollhouse" staff writers Jed Whedon and Maurissa Tancharden (along with Andrew Chambliss), so it's safe to say the story came from ideas that would've been thrown around in the writers' room if the show had continued. Indeed, this storyline may have been discussed anyway, just so the "Epitaph" episodes would have a solid backstory.
Although I sometimes think "epitaph" means "epilogue," it of course refers to words written on a gravestone. As with the episodes that have this title, the heroes in "Epitaphs" are surrounded by death. The innocent Dumbshows are being killed by Butchers. There are also Wielders, people who go around imprinting people as Butchers. All of these groups spring from Rossum's twisted tech. A lot of the plot deals with the back-and-forth of Rossum finding a way to imprint people and our heroes shutting that down, then Rossum coming up with a new strategy, and so forth.
The interesting pebble-turning is the character stuff, though. In "Epitaphs," we learn how Alpha became good. It happens seemingly overnight on the show; it's a process here. Partly influenced by an imprint of Ballard, partly because his true self is gaining control of his evil selves, he fights the good fight. Intriguingly, the good Alpha is able to do so thanks to a compromise with his evil selves, whom he lets loose at times, but only against Butchers.
One of the show's missed opportunities was digging into multiple imprints of the same person interacting with each other. We did get Topher talking on the phone to "himself" (an imprinted Victor) once, but "Epitaphs" goes further through the character(s) of Ivy. Played by Liza Lapira, Ivy was Topher's assistant; it always seemed like the writers had more planned for her -- some fans still theorize she was Ballard's secret contact within the Dollhouse in Season 1, some theorized she was a doll like Dr. Saunders. As it turned out, Topher told her to leave when things heated up late in Season 2. The comic tells us she went to the Toyko Dollhouse.
Although Ivy 1.0 isn't in "Epitaphs," three imprinted versions of her are: a hot woman, a plump woman and a man. Entertaining scenes find the Ivies sexually experimenting with each other, which in and of itself is a commentary either on Ivy's self-love or the concept that we're drawn to people with common interests.
The plot (or characterization, as it were) thickens: The male Ivy is attracted to the hot Ivy but not the plump version. (S)he admits that the male hormones have affected her decision-making. We saw in the series that the soul (metaphorical on "Dollhouse," unlike in the Buffyverse) – the truest self -- is linked to the body, whereas imprinted minds are not. But the Ivy arc in the comic is gives a fresh angle, because it shows the impact of the body's automatic functions on the mind. The body trumps an imprinted mind in "Dollhouse."
The action of "Epitaphs" bounces back and forth between two groups: One features Alpha, some Ivies and a new character, a Tech-Head (people who can retain a sense of self but can swap out implants) named Trevor. The other group features Mag and Zone, whom we had only known from the "Epitaph" episodes. Ballard and Echo only pop up late in the game. There's no sign of Victor, Sierra, Topher or DeWitt, even though they are alive during this time (a note at the back of the trade paperback says DeWitt was in an early draft). Trevor is given such weight in the story that I'm guessing Jed Whedon and Tancharden had more story to tell but the series just didn't sell well enough.
Nonetheless, "Dollhouse" fans will want to pick up the trade paperback to get a fuller picture of how the thoughtpocalypse came about and how Alpha became good, while also seeing that pebble turned over a few more times.
DollhouseComic booksWed, 14 Sep 2016 00:32:00 -0700http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2016/9/14/Dollhouse-flashback-Epitaphs-comic-series-201112Rewatching and reviewing the classics: ‘Dollhouse’ Season 2 (2009-10)http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2016/9/4/Rewatching-and-reviewing-the-classics-Dollhouse-Season-2-200910
<img src="http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/images//dollhouse-season-21.jpg">
It started as an anthology show that allowed Eliza Dushku to play a different character every week, but in its second season (2009-10, Fox), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1135300/" target="_blank">"Dollhouse"</a> embraces its identity as a serial story exploring what makes a person a distinct individual. It approaches this theme from dozens of different angles, but rather than running off the rails, it's not only comprehensible, but also compelling and insightful.
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I had forgotten a lot of Season 2 from my initial viewing; I had remembered Season 1 better. I notice this odd phenomenon of recalling earlier seasons more than later seasons in a lot of my rewatches. But also, I think material this serialized and intellectually challenging plays better without a weeklong gap between episodes.
After a couple of episodes that take Echo's personality-of-the-week into wild new arenas – she gets married as part of a long-term undercover mission in "Vows" (1), then is imprinted as a mother in "Instinct" (2) – Joss Whedon and his writing team focus on Echo as a character more so than Echo's imprints.
So what makes someone an individual entity distinct from all those other humans roaming around the globe – is it their mind, body or soul? All three, it turns out; but what's fascinating is that every "Dollhouse" character puts a different degree of importance on each of the three aspects.
As Dushku's Echo evolves past her doll state and becomes a real person (she and Alan Tudyk's Alpha are the only two dolls who have an ability – thanks to an aspect of their physical body – to resist mind-wipes and permanently store multiple personalities), she feels ownership over this body, even though it rightly belongs to Caroline.
After Topher's (Fran Kranz) reverse-imprint pulse allows every body to return to its original mind state in "Epitaph Two: Return" (13), Caroline voluntarily imprints herself as Echo again. Admittedly, this isn't total death for Caroline, as Caroline is one of the 100 or so identities within Echo (indeed, Caroline, when in the form of a 9-year-old girl, calls Echo "me"), but still, it's a selfless move.
By contrast, Dr. Saunders (Amy Acker) does not want to give her body back to the doll Whiskey or the original inhabitant of the body (1). She understandably does not want to die, although she is ashamed that she's "stealing" a body and also that she's a programmed person. She hates Topher because Topher programmed her to hate him, and she hates him for programming her. But still, she wants to remain "her."
Mellie (Miracle Laurie), on the other hand, kills herself (12, "The Hollow Men") rather than continue living as a programmed entity – a notion that's particularly painful to deal with when a code activates her sleeper state as an assassin targeting Ballard (Tahmoh Penikett), whom she has been programmed to love.
Ballard, for his part, is horrified to learn he is a doll (11, "Getting Closer"). Even though he's a doll imprinted with his own Ballard personality, there's something about knowing you have been programmed that messes with one's mind (no pun intended).
Indeed, not having one's "own" mind bothers "Dollhouse's" characters more than being separated from their own body. As noted, Caroline is ultimately OK with giving up her body so Echo may live. And when Topher is in Victor's body (5, "The Public Eye"; 6, "The Left Hand"; and 12), he's not too bothered by it. He'd rather be in his own body, but he thinks Victor's is fine, too.
Clyde, Rossum Corporation's co-founder, is even more blasé about what body he's in. We see him in multiple bodies, including that of Whiskey (12). In "Epitaph Two," as one body gets fat from gluttony, Clyde prepares to pick out a new doll body for himself.
The fun of Season 2 is following the narrative down the rabbit hole of these scientifically impossible yet fascinating scenarios. Despite having no relation to modern scientific plausibility (less is known about the brain than outer space or the bottom of the ocean), everything works as metaphors; as Whedon advised viewers back in the "Buffy" days: Bring your own subtext.
For example, Ballard's relationship with Mellie is frustrating because when he meets her again in Season 2, she's actually Madeline (the original owner of the Mellie body), and naturally Madeline doesn't know him – and she has a gruffer personality than the kind-hearted, shy Mellie. No one can relate to this exact scenario, but everyone can relate to idealizing someone in your head and then coming to the harsh realization that they aren't who you thought they were.
Another classically cruel Whedonverse romance comes in the form of Topher and fellow genius Bennett (Summer Glau, in an overlooked turn that's just as good as River and Cameron). To Topher, Bennett is the real-life equivalent of what Mellie is to Ballard – his dream girl. (Actually, Bennett is only "real-life" in contrast to Mellie. Bennett is a TV trope when compared to the REAL world. The writers undercut the cliché a bit when Topher fires his anti-doll gun at her; it has no effect, so Bennett is – amazingly – real.)
At any rate, Topher and Bennett are giggle-worthy for a few episodes before Bennett gets killed in the war against Rossum. And thus she becomes the latest example of a Whedon trope – the Dream Girl Who Is Cut Down Just When She Has Made The Depressed Hero Happy, following the likes of "Buffy's" Jenny Calendar and "Angel's" Fred.
Perhaps to soften the blow of Ballard-Mellie and Topher-Bennett, or perhaps to twist the knife, Season 2 also doles out catnip to the hopeless romantics in the audience via Victor (Enver Gjokaj, who, by the way, gives a hilariously spot-on performance as Topher when he's imprinted as such) and Sierra (Dichen Lachman). These two are attracted to each other regardless of what personality is in their mind. So with Victor and Sierra, we're really talking about an attraction at the level of the soul.
How is such a thing possible? In the context of the show, both Anthony (the original mind in Victor) and Priya (the original mind in Sierra) volunteered to become dolls so they could forget their past. Visual artist Priya was tormented and raped by a stalker (4, "Belonging") while war veteran Tony suffered PTSD (9, "Stop-Loss"). In the context of reality, well, when you think about successful love connections, they all transcend logic (mind) and physical attraction (body). We might as well call the remaining factor the soul.
Season 1 made a viewer think about the ethics of the Dollhouse (Is it a form of slavery, or is it OK if people volunteer to be dolls?), and Season 2 delivers more tough ethical questions, particularly in the climax of "The Hollow Men." Echo defeats Boyd (Harry Lennix), Rossum's co-founder, by zapping him with a device that puts him in a doll state. Then she straps a bomb to that doll to blow up Rossum HQ and destroy all its tech.
Arguably, Boyd himself had it coming, but the doll now inhabiting his body certainly did not. Then again, is a blank slate (other than the special cases of Echo and Alpha) a person? Is Echo's action not the equivalent of killing a mentally challenged person? We would all agree about the wrongness of that, yet the show lets Echo off the hook, as this is the penultimate episode and the finale jumps ahead 10 years.
Indeed, on my first viewing, Season 2 struck me as having rushed storytelling. Although it's not as bad as I remembered, there are some lingering oddities. Alpha erases Ballard's brain, but how? Echo suddenly recovers from her headaches and has adjusted to having many personalities in her brain – but how? Why does DeWitt (Olivia Williams) give Topher's plans for a universal-remote-imprint zap gun to Rossum? At the time, it seemed like she was evil, but that was later revealed to be an intentional mislead for viewers.
Above all, when thinking about this series' premise, I wonder about the numerous blue-collar workers in the Dollhouses. A story arc early in Season 2 finds Senator Perrin (Alexis Denisof) investigating the rumor of Dollhouses, but shouldn't Dollhouses be common knowledge with so many people employed by them? (Perrin, by the way, might be the scariest example of what Rossum can do with its technology: He's a politician whom Rossum quite literally controls, as it can do remote wipes and imprints on him.)
In my review of Season 1, I characterized "Dollhouse" as being quite different from "Buffy," "Angel" and "Firefly," but in Season 2 it aggressively addresses many themes touched upon in those series. Watching this season and then thinking back on Whedon's prior series, it's clear that he's always been interested in the theme of identity.
People are constantly body-switching, something that was explored in "Buffy's" "Who Are You?," when Buffy and Faith learn to sympathize with each other after spending time in each other's bodies. The Victor-Sierra romance implies the existence of a soul, as with Angel, whose personality does a 180 based on whether he's in possession of his soul. And the plot of a government (or a connected corporation) programming people's brains was also seen in "Firefly" and "Serenity" via the Reavers.
"Blade Runner" comes to mind, too, as a viewer can't help but wonder who's a doll and who isn't. So does "The Matrix" when our heroes maneuver through the Attic, a nightmare mindscape (10, "The Attic").
And in the 2020-set "Epitaph Two," the influence is any and all dystopian sci-fi movies. But rather than a nuclear bomb creating this future, it's another invention that can't be put back in the toothpaste tube: the ability to manipulate a brain like any other computer. It's a free-for-all in the streets between Actives (aka dolls, those whose minds aren't in their original bodies), Actuals (normal people like you and me) and Tech-Heads (dolls who can retain a foundational sense of self and who enjoy adding upgrades to their brains).
After 13 episodes of twists and turns (DeWitt's a good guy after all?! Boyd was a bad guy this whole time?!), I came to one final realization of why "Dollhouse" is a great series rather than just a fun experiment and an open acting class for Dushku. By the end of the series, I thought of Echo as her own, fully formed character – not as Faith from "Buffy," and not as a blank slate.
DollhouseTelevisionTelevision (Classic)Sun, 04 Sep 2016 02:01:00 -0700http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2016/9/4/Rewatching-and-reviewing-the-classics-Dollhouse-Season-2-200910Rewatching and reviewing the classics: ‘Dollhouse’ Season 1 (2009)http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2016/8/5/Rewatching-and-reviewing-the-classics-Dollhouse-Season-1-2009
<img src="http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/images//dollhouse-season-11.jpg">
Coming out five years after Joss Whedon's Big Three series ("Buffy," "Angel" and "Firefly") left the airwaves, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1135300/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">"Dollhouse"</a> Season 1 (2009, Fox) had massive shoes to fill. On its original airing, I saw it as an experimental series that allowed Eliza Dushku to fulfill the actor's dream of playing different roles while also having a steady job. And it was hard not to be distracted every time another Whedonverse alum (Amy Acker! Alan Tudyk!) popped up.
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"Dollhouse" struck me as a deeper show on this rewatch; indeed, I'd argue it's the most intellectually dense show of Whedon's oeuvre and one of the most thematically rich sci-fi shows ever to air on network TV. On my first viewing, I was bothered that Dushku didn't play wildly distinct characters each week, but I noticed the nuances on this viewing (although the most entertainingly varied performances come from Enver Gjokaj, who plays the doll Victor).
"Firefly" is cited as one of the best libertarian TV series of all time (although Whedon, ironically, is not a libertarian), but "Dollhouse" deserves consideration for the short list, too. The <a href="http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2009/10/26/Is-Dollhouse-channeling-Philip-K-Dick" target="_blank">Philip K. Dickian</a> premise is that people sign contracts for five years of service as a "doll" at the Los Angeles-based "Dollhouse" -- one of 30 spread across the globe and run by the mysterious Rossum Corporation.
Their original personalities (Dushku's is Caroline) are stored on wedges while they spend their time as childlike dolls (Dushku's is Echo) in a gorgeous day spa exercising, doing arts and crafts projects, eating and sleeping – except when they are rented out by rich clients for a day. In that case, they are "imprinted" with one of the tens of the millions of personality/background/skill-set combos available in scientist Topher's archives.
In the 13-episode first season (14 if you count the unaired pilot, "Echo," which was repurposed throughout the season), "Dollhouse's" message of course comes down on the side of the sanctity of an individual's natural rights. Caroline, as we learn in "Echoes" (episode 7), was an environmentalist protestor who was caught by the Rossum Corporation. In a plea deal of sorts, she agrees to the five-year term as a doll; she'll get a fresh start and lots of cash after the five years.
However, "Dollhouse" also plays devil's advocate in robust fashion, with intimations that the Dollhouse is ethically above-board. In "Omega" (12), Caroline argues with her rescuer Alpha (Tudyk) that she shouldn't take the opportunity to break out, because she hasn't fulfilled her contract yet. Madeline (also known as Mellie and the doll November, and played by Miracle Laurie) genuinely thanks Dollhouse director Adelle DeWitt (Olivia Williams) when her term is up – after all, from her perspective, no time had passed and she is substantially richer. On the other hand, Sierra (Dichen Lachman) was forced into life as a doll, as we learn in "Needs" (8). So sometimes these arrangements happen by coercion and sometimes by outright force, but at other times, they are voluntary.
Indeed, the concept of someone voluntarily becoming a doll shows an interesting flip-side to individual liberty: The idea that a person should not be forcefully prevented from any voluntary activity, even if it seems unethical to someone else; indeed, even if it seems unethical to the majority of people. Selling one's soul is the sci-fi parallel to prostitution and organ sales.
While the question of the rightness of the doll-side arrangement hinges on whether it's voluntary, there's also the client side to consider. Rich people who would rent a human for a day would seem to be sleazy, but it's not so simple. In Season 1, we see clients use dolls for both good (or at least pragmatic) and bad (or at least selfish) means – but surprisingly, the list of examples leans toward pragmatic: Echo is dispatched as a hostage negotiator (1, "Ghost"), a bodyguard to a pop diva (3, "Stage Fright"), an art thief who steals back stolen art (4, "Gray Hour") and an older version of a troubled youth who helps the younger version (11, "Briar Rose").
A borderline use of Echo comes in "True Believer" (5) when she's programmed as a blind woman of faith whose infiltration of a cult assists the ATF. She's put in serious danger, but the dangerousness of the cult is ambiguous. An unquestionably negative use of a doll comes in "The Target" (2), when an outdoorsman rents Echo and makes her the target of his "Most Dangerous Game" scenario.
In "Haunted" (10), a dead woman uses Echo's body to attend her own funeral; this is somewhat of a selfish move, but it does allow her to mend her relationship with her family, so even this scenario does have a positive result. This is my favorite Dushku performance of the year, as she gets into the broad "Quantum Leap" aspects of the scenario, and the most comedic moment comes when Echo's character is romanced by her own son and she nearly vomits over the edge of the rooftop.
Perhaps the most powerful example of the good a doll can do comes in "Man on the Street" (6): Patton Oswalt plays a man whose wife was killed just before he could show her the new house he had bought. So he rents Echo every year on the anniversary so he can experience the joyful moment that was stolen from him. Still, there's an undercurrent of melancholy to this story: Oswalt's character is not truly experiencing the moment, but a simulation. Similarly, in "Haunted," we see that Topher is allowed to use Sierra for a play date every year on his birthday. And in "A Spy in the House of Love" (9), DeWitt secretly rents out Victor, imprinted as her devoted lover. The false reality keeps Topher content, but it enhances DeWitt's loneliness.
And then there's the romance between FBI Agent Ballard (Tahmoh Penikett) and his neighbor Mellie, which unfurls throughout the season. They do love each other, but Mellie is not a real person: She's the doll November, imprinted as Mellie (by, as it turns out, Ballard's secret ally in the Dollhouse, who hasn't been revealed yet). In reality, she's a woman named Madeline. Whedon has told some tragic romances through the years, and nothing makes me get choked up more than "The Prom," but on paper, this one takes the cake because Ballard knows the one good thing in his life is not real, and he has to break up with Mellie – without telling her why -- in order to protect her. Whew.
"Dollhouse" is set in the time of its airing, but with the additional wrinkle that rumors of Dollhouses date back to the 1980s (as we learn in "Man on the Street"), thus giving some verisimilitude to the premise. Well-connected people know Dollhouses exist, but to the Average Joe, they are an urban legend.
But whereas Dollhouses aren't out in the open, they do operate without fear of being shut down by a government. It's hard to say exactly whether Dollhouses are legal or illegal, because officially, they don't exist. Suffice it to say that the right palms have been greased. The L.A. Dollhouse literally operates below ground, but DeWitt's office is in a skyscraper above. Some law-enforcement officials use dolls in their operations, but off the books. Ballard investigates Dollhouse rumors like a one-case Fox Mulder, seeking to expose its crimes against humanity. Another government representative, Dominic (Reed Diamond), is an undercover NSA agent who is protecting the Dollhouse from nosy people like Ballard. But the relationship between Rossum Corp. and the feds isn't exactly cozy: DeWitt has Dominic's mind wiped when she finds out he's an undercover agent, and she hires Ballard so long as he agrees to discredit his own work within the FBI.
Although all the characters other than Ballard and the dolls are structurally villains, they cover the whole ethical spectrum. DeWitt would seem to be the uber-villain, but when someone higher up the food chain desires to permanently transfer his mind to the body of Victor – thus buying the body for nine figures instead of the standard process of renting him – DeWitt balks at the idea, arguing that the original "Victor" (whose background we don't know yet) owns the body. In other words, she purports that it's unethical to permanently break the link between body and soul, but she's OK with a temporary break.
Dollhouse employees are told the dolls are all volunteers, but it might as well be said with a wink. Topher (Fran Kranz), the science genius who streamlined the imprinting technology, is willing to believe it because he absolutely loves his job. Boyd (Harry Lennix), Echo's handler, doesn't believe the dolls are all volunteers, but he wants to protect Echo, so he doesn't rock the boat.
It's tempting to circle around "Dollhouse's" timeless "What does it mean to be human?" themes all day, but another interesting aspect to the series is its behind-the-scenes story. Originally, Whedon unveiled the essential points of the entire season in a pilot episode titled "Echo" (considered episode 0 on IMDB), but then he scrapped that hour (it's included as a bonus feature on the DVD) and repurposed parts of it in almost every episode of Season 1. For example, "Echo" ends with Echo speaking the name "Caroline" before she goes to bed, and "Omega" ends with the same shot.
It's as if Whedon was flustered by his experience on "Firefly" when he made a sweeping two-hour pilot, then was told by Fox to make a new, fast-moving episode ("The Train Job") to launch to show to TV viewers. But for "Dollhouse," he changed directions on his own and decided to go the slow-burn route after all; this time, there was no intervention from Fox. And it's a good thing, because the slow-burn approach is clearly better. Too much information is jam-packed into "Echo."
The last episode of Season 1 is also unorthodox: "Epitaph Part 1" (13) is on the DVD, but it didn't air on TV. The action jumps ahead 10 years to a post-apocalyptic 2019 when the Dollhouse technology has gone mainstream and now Actuals are fighting Actives in the streets. It's a nice thematic capper to the season because it firmly comes down against Dollhouses. But in terms of plot, it complicates matters: It has some elements – Whiskey's (Acker) facial scars are repaired, Dominic is out of the attic and Caroline is in the body of a young girl – that will require explanation in Season 2. Perhaps Whedon decided to give a peek at the conclusion of his grand narrative after having his storytelling interrupted on the prematurely canceled "Angel" and "Firefly."
By the end of my rewatch, I decided that "Dollhouse" isn't merely an experimental series, it's the headiest Whedon series of them all. Plus, this season is extra meaty because each episode is about five minutes longer than the 44-minute standard, part of Fox's marketing strategy at the time. To be sure, having the geekiest sci-fi ideas is not the same as being the best Whedon series. Early episodes have an "Eliza's role of the week" feel, and "The Target" is a flat-out "Most Dangerous Game" adaptation.
But "Dollhouse" gets under your skin with its bevy of approaches to the concept of individual humanity. It's not a character – a Buffy, an Angel or a Captain Mal -- that drives the show, but rather the aching lack of a character to latch onto. We "see" Caroline every week, but we don't know Caroline. We sympathize with Echo as we would any innocent child, but we can't see her grow into a mature adult. We begin to care for an Active over the course of an hour, only to have them snatched away at the end, never to exist again. It's disconcerting to wonder if our own sense of self could someday become so fleeting, either through cutting-edge technology or the opposite: brain conditions such as Alzheimer's.
"Dollhouse" is a world where Echo climbing onto a precarious ledge to grab a computer-disc wedge with Caroline's imprint ("Omega") has the same tension as if she were rescuing the real Caroline. That's a weird achievement, but it's certainly a fresh one.
DollhouseTelevisionTelevision (Classic)Fri, 05 Aug 2016 19:57:00 -0700http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2016/8/5/Rewatching-and-reviewing-the-classics-Dollhouse-Season-1-2009Is ‘Dollhouse’ channeling Philip K. Dick?http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2009/10/26/Is-Dollhouse-channeling-Philip-K-Dick
<img src="http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/images//dollhouse-season-1.jpg">
For anyone who wanted to look closely, the <a href="http://www.hulu.com/dollhouse" target="_blank">"Dollhouse"</a>-<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_k._dick" target="_blank">Philip K. Dick</a> comparison has been obvious since the first episode, but it has really struck me during this more serialized second season.
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For my readers who are PKD fans but haven't watched "Dollhouse" (8 p.m. Central Fridays on Fox, returning with new episodes Dec. 4), here's a primer: The titular organization has a cadre of "dolls" -- human beings whose minds can be wiped and reprogrammed with different personalities; they can then be rented by high-paying clients. Usually the clients want the dolls for sex or violence, naturally, but not always.
Although Fox has hyped up the star, Eliza Dushku, as lead doll Echo, "Dollhouse" actually wavers between various points-of-view (as PKD often did, even within chapters). The closest to a regular protagonist is Ballard, the FBI agent investigating the Dollhouse and the cruelty of the organization toward its dolls. (Any perceived cruelty is open to interpretation -- on one hand, the Dollhouse handles its dolls with care. On the other hand, IT TURNS HUMAN BEINGS INTO DOLLS. On the other hand, all of these humans consented to becoming dolls. On the other hand, IT TURNS HUMAN BEINGS INTO DOLLS. And so forth.) However, some episodes don't feature Ballard at all; last week's told the story of doll Sierra, and gave insight into doll programmer Topher.
I'm pretty excited about noticing the "Dollhouse"-PKD connection. Although a fair number of PKD works have been made into films, the late author doesn't have much of a TV presence. (I suppose the closest would be <a href="http://www.hulu.com/total-recall-2070" target="_blank">"Total Recall 2070,"</a> a spinoff of the movie "Total Recall," which was an adaptation of the PKD short story "We Can Remember It for You Wholesale.")
As far as I know, PKD didn't do a story exactly like "Dollhouse," where one body is a vessel for multiple characters. However, if he hadn't died prematurely, I think he eventually would've done something like this.
He did a ton of stuff with characters caught in a bizarre reality because of drugs ("A Scanner Darkly") or government experiments ("Time Out of Joint"). He invented people who weren't really people, but rather scientific creations ("The Simulacra" and "We Can Build You"). He stored personalities in a vault, just like the Dollhouse does (in "Ubik," folks can visit their dead relatives for a certain amount of time before their essences completely die). Arnold Schwarzenegger's <a href=" http://www.bigchicosmovieblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/arnold-total-recall.jpg" target="_blank">"Total Recall"</a> character (based on a PKD short story) is programmed with memories, just as the <a href="http://www3.timeoutny.com/chicago/blog/out-and-about/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/dollhouse_echo-sc56pt_0049.jpg" target="_blank">dolls</a> are programmed with personalities (and the memories that go with them).
Let's dig deeper into the "Dollhouse"-PKD parallels:
• Ballard as the somewhat pathetic protagonist.
This guy is totally a PKD character. As he's investigating the Dollhouse, he engages in a tryst with his neighbor, Mellie. PKD's relationships were often convenient but deeply felt, often taking place within an apartment building (or "conapt" in PKD-ese).
Ballard can only find love with someone who's not even real -- it turns out that Mellie is a personality programmed into a doll, November, by the Dollhouse. Obsession with unreal things was a central theme of "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?," where Deckard wanted a new electronic animal to take care of.
Last season, Ballard led an almost-suicidal assault on the Dollhouse; impulsive hero acts are a common PKD protagonist trait. (Ballard is now continuing his investigation a little more on the down low, but a viewer gets the sense that someone higher up the food chain is letting him do this.)
To take this further into PKD-land, the writers should have Ballard awkwardly try to pursue a relationship with November (who, of course, doesn't know who he is).
• Topher as the "villain."
Topher is the Dollhouse's technician, the guy who wipes the dolls' minds (via "treatments" in the show's parlance) and implants new personalities. He enjoys pushing the scientific envelope so much that he is accused of having no morals, even by his morally questionable bosses.
Like "Dollhouse," PKD novels never have the dull, mad-scientist villains, they just have foils who are on the wrong side of the law (well, the right side, technically, but since the right side is evil, it's the wrong side from the good guys' point of view).
• The bizarrely evil government.
PKD's governments are always doing weird, over-the-top stuff, and while this causes problems for average citizens, we also see how incompetently the government is run. This whole Dollhouse thing totally fits -- it's almost certainly supported by the government, because it's too out in the open to be an underground operation; at the same time, having it so out in the open is arrogant and sloppy, just like a PKD conspiracy.
The Dollhouse conspiracy seems kind of like the subprime mortgage scheme -- it's happening right under our noses, and I think the villains of the piece are just hoping to cash in and get out before anyone calls them on it.
• Echo's backup-singer personality.
If PKD was writing "Dollhouse," he wouldn't bother with the obvious episodes about people renting Echo and other dolls for violence or sex. But he would totally do something off-the-wall like the early Season 1 episode where Echo is rented out as a backup singer to a pop diva. It's not beloved by fans, but I think it has a certain "so weird that it works" charm; PKD's books almost always worked because of their weirdness.
• Echo's "character" arc.
Dushku has three distinct roles. Her real personality (the one she was born with, so to speak) is Caroline, a college student. Her blank-slate, wandering-around-the-Dollhouse-in-sweatpants personality is Echo; Echo is helping Ballard to take down the Dollhouse by secretly keeping notes of things she remembers. And then her third role is whatever personality she's programmed with in a given week.
I'm reminded a bit of PKD's "A Scanner Darkly," where a detective is investigating a crime that he himself committed, only he doesn't realize that he did it. Another reference point is "A Maze of Death," where the characters experience a reality that they slowly realize is fake. The PKD characters' realities melted together in their brains, and Caroline/Echo/Whoever's personalities are melting together in her brain.
• Are some of the non-dolls actually dolls?
We recently found out that Dr. Saunders is actually a doll (and therefore a real person before that), and it totally messed with Saunders' head when she found this out (she wasn't supposed to find out, of course).
It's reminiscent of how Deckard in "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep" is bothered by the possibility that he might be an android. Some "Dollhouse" fans have speculated that Dr. Saunders/Whiskey is just the first of several supposedly non-doll characters who are actually dolls.
"Dollhouse," as is always the case with sci-fi shows on Fox, is in danger of being canceled at any moment. I hope that before that happens, it delves further into PKD territory.
Although it's edgy by mainstream TV standards, "Dollhouse" is tame compared to the writings of PKD, whose imagination was boundless. I'd advise that the show needs to keep getting weirder. Have Ballard become obsessed with November. Have Echo's brain go haywire between her multiple personalities. Have Topher tell his bosses to take this job and shove it.
Recent episodes suggest that "Dollhouse" creator Joss Whedon is already going in this direction. Indeed, it seems he has created yet another show that will be canceled too soon -- and just when it's getting really good (see also "Firefly" and "Angel") -- but which we'll be talking about for years. Kind of like how PKD died too young, but his stories still give us plenty of things to talk about.
Philip K. DickBooksDollhouseTelevisionMon, 26 Oct 2009 00:01:00 -0700http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2009/10/26/Is-Dollhouse-channeling-Philip-K-DickThe truth about ‘Dollhouse’: It’s Ballard’s show, not Echo’shttp://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2009/5/7/The-truth-about-Dollhouse-Its-Ballards-show-not-Echos
<img src="http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/images//dollhouse.jpg">
From the beginning, "Dollhouse" was a rickety premise for a series, but it strikes me as being purposely rickety -- as if creator Joss Whedon wants to challenge himself -- with each episode attempting to prop up the foundation.
The series came about when Whedon dreamed up a vehicle for star Eliza Dushku while they were having dinner. Although she was great as Faith on "Buffy," Dushku has the typical TV actor's desire to play a variety of characters rather than developing one character.
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In "Dollhouse," Dushku is Echo, a doll (an adult body with the mind of an innocent child) programmed with a new personality each week. The production values of this show can't be denied (the overhead shot of the five doll beds forming a star pattern feels iconic already), nor can the cast (from the beginning, I liked Echo's handler, played by the rich-voiced Harry Lennix).
The show has failed in one regard: Getting me to care about Echo. She is after all a blank slate, and we haven't learned anything about her original personality as college student Caroline and how she ended up as a doll. I'm also surprised at how unmemorable Echo's programmed characters have been on a week-to-week basis, especially since the chance to show her range was the selling point for Dushku.
But "Dollhouse" has succeeded in another way, because I do care about FBI agent Paul Ballard (Tahmoh Penikett) who is investigating the disappearance of Caroline and the secrets of the Dollhouse. Despite being obsessed with the Caroline case, Ballard shacks up with his neighbor Mellie (Miracle Laurie), and only after he falls in love with her does he learn that she is a programmed doll code-named November (but, of course, in her Mellie guise, she doesn't know that).
This sci-fi mind-bender would be right at home in a Philip K. Dick novel: Is the joy of loving someone lost when you find out they were programmed to love you? Does the fact that she doesn't know she's programmed make a difference?
And here are two questions for you, dear reader: Has this Whedon/Dushku experiment been a success or a failure? Do you hope it comes back for a second season, or have you outgrown these dolls?
("Dollhouse" airs at 8 p.m. Central Fridays on Fox, and it can also be seen on <a href="http://www.hulu.com/dollhouse" target="_blank">www.hulu.com/dollhouse</a>.)
DollhouseTelevisionThu, 07 May 2009 20:04:00 -0700http://www.johnvhansen.com/jvh/blog/index.cfm/2009/5/7/The-truth-about-Dollhouse-Its-Ballards-show-not-Echos